TRP: Hansel and Mishka (Castle)
Coyote: Hansel was over standing by the railing. He was leaning against it, not looking out at the water. Hansel seemed uneasy on the ship, which.... well. Fair. Mishka still loved the water, but to be fair, he'd never been traumatized on a horrifying shipwreck, so that was different. Mishka slipped over. He still wasn't quite sure where they... stood, here. Hansel had been quiet. Mishka had slept in the hammock overnight, too keyed up to sleep in the same bed, and Hansel hadn't said anything about it. But Hansel had asked him to come back, and had let him sleep in the same room, and had kissed him on the head, and that was enough, for now. "Hey," Mishka said. Izzy: Hansel had tried to pretend like he didn't notice Mishka and Raef having a conversation. Mishka didn't really like other elves, he knew, so he was vaguely worried something would happen and had wanted to eavesdrop so that he could cut in if things took a turn, but he was even worse at anything stealthy when he was drunk. It'd seemed to be civil. But then, that was Raef. He was quiet, even about things like mass murders and the death of his own husband. He seemed safe. It was fine. It was all fine. Hansel took another drink to reaffirm that. "Hey." He glanced at Mishka with a slight smile, then back to the deck, watching the others. It seemed like a good chance that one of these idiots might fall off the damn boat. Someone had to play lifeguard. Coyote: “Listen,” Mishka said. He switched to Elvish automatically so he wouldn't be overheard. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to say this. I'm doing this now, while I'm drunk. If it's too much, then we can both get wasted and pretend we forgot and it didn't happen. Fair?" He searched for the words. "I really liked having you home—” Maybe that wasn’t the right word. “I liked having you at my… estate… with me. With Samantha, and Nixie, and Bethie. It was really fucking good, alright? Just-- being quiet there, having breakfast together, lying next to you on the couch." Less talking, he reminded himself. Don't get emotional about it. "When this is all done-- when the bitch is dead, y'know, and-- the city is clear. Will you come there?" He wanted to say: Will you come live with me? But those words were a bit too difficult. "Will you come. Ah. Live. At my estate. With me. I mean, it doesn't have to be in my room, but obviously you'd have to stop sleeping on the couch like a fucking heathen, Hans. I have spare rooms. I just--" He searched for the words again. "I feel like we keep moving from disaster to disaster. I just want to--" He cut off there with a small, frustrated noise. "I just," he said, then stopped again. "I just want to-- live with you a while, again. Before the next apocalypse." Izzy: For a moment it was absolutely hilarious to Hansel that his husband, who he had lived with for eight years on a ship smaller than his current house, seemed to be nervous about asking if he wanted to move in together. It seemed completely ludicrous. Of course he wanted to live with Mishka. For fuck's sake. But then he thought for a moment more, and hesitated. Those couple days at the estate -- he kept thinking about them, but they'd never felt permanent, and it hadn't been because he'd been sleeping on a couch. Best goddamn sleep he'd had in a while, on that couch. But he didn't know if he could live in the place that Mishka had bought by selling him and the rest of his crew out. He didn't know if he would ever be able to stop thinking about it like that. "I want to," he said, still thinking, looking at the floor. (What had brought this on, anyway? The fuck had Raef said to him. He'd have to have a talk with that elf later.) "I wanna live with you again. I miss that." Fuck, he missed it. He already missed Mishka sharing his bed after just one night but -- he understood why that wasn't happening now. He tried to decide if he should make this flippant or serious and didn't really finish making that decision before he opened his mouth again. "I kinda fucking hate your estate, though." Hm. "I mean, it's -- fine. Uh. It's nice. I just don't think I could ... stay there." He didn't know if he needed to explain why. Or if he even should, if Mishka didn't get it on his own. He took a breath and shifted against the railing, still squinting at the floor. "And I gotta look out for Jonn. If the little shit's still alive. I can probably do that without living with him, though." Eldath, he didn't want to think about how that was going to work. Shoved the thought aside -- finally looked up to Mishka. "But what you said about -- about making something new. We could get a place together. Something that's ... ours. Both of ours." Coyote: Mishka automatically started to arrange it in his head. He still needed the vineyard for smuggling. He'd have to keep the estate, but they'd need money to buy a new house. Or... he could sell the vineyard and the estate and do something else. He was good at smuggling, though, and wasn't sure how he was going to stay on Renar Basha's good side without that aspect of their business partnership. He'd miss it badly. It was the first place he'd made home in... fuck. Since Alabaster, actually. The estate was the first house he'd owned, come to think of it, despite the hundred years he'd been alive. He'd miss his quiet room. He'd miss Nixie. Maybe he could get a house big enough for her, too. "Does the vineyard thing bother you?" Mishka said. "I've been moving things along with the bottles and crates. I could keep the estate and we could get a house somewhere else. Or I could just dump the whole thing, sell it to someone else. I'm sure Renar Basha might be willing to buy me out-- or one of his associates." Then flicked his fingers. "Well. It doesn't matter. I'll figure out how to do it. We'll need to talk about it, though. If Nixie can have a room there-- and I need a place to go, you know, somewhere others can't get--" All the details. There were some interesting ruined keeps around. He wondered where Hansel would like to go. Izzy: "Yeah, of course Nixie could have a room there." The question hadn't even occurred to him. He didn't mean to take anything away from Mishka -- and Sugar was -- well, he liked her. She was a good kid. "It's not the vineyard. Or your business or anything." Should he explain this? What if it caused more harm than good -- what if pointing out what the estate meant to Hansel just made Mishka upset. Or maybe it was ... fine if it made Mishka upset. Maybe that was fair. "I don't mind if you keep it. I just." He hesitated again, said it quietly in case that would take the sting out of the words. "I'm not living in the place you sold me out for." Then he started to apologize, and stopped himself. He was being pretty fucking reasonable about that, actually, he thought. Maybe it was the booze talking. Coyote: "Oh, yeah," Mishka said. "No, absolutely. Goes without saying. I mean, I'll fucking miss it, I'm not going to pretend I won't. But fair. Y'know. If it's you or the estate, that's... that's just how it is, Hansel." He'd have to think if he wanted to keep the wine business or not. "Where do you... want to go, though?" Samantha-- and the family who worked the vineyard for him-- were good people. He'd have to keep Samantha, somehow, if she'd come with. Izzy: Oh. That had gone surprisingly well. Hansel couldn't help feeling suspicious, and like this was going to come back on him somehow, but he tamped the feeling down. "Huh. Y'know, I got no fuckin' idea." He'd never really had a choice before. Farm, road, ship, ship, ship, ship, inn with Jonn because they couldn't afford a house, barracks, ship. It'd all been sort of ... compulsory. He started to say wherever you want to go but that defeated the purpose of finding something for both of them. Hansel just didn't know what he wanted apart from to be with Mishka. "I'll think about it. I guess." He shrugged and grinned. "Y'know. Assuming we don't all fuckin' die." Coyote: Huh. "You know what would be interesting--" No, he was getting ahead of himself. "You know, this is crazy, but, you know... if the Graverunners are outlaws now, and I'm trying to get Ripley on my side--" No, this was a terrible idea. "And I have the money, honestly, from all the, y'know, smuggling. We could fix up a keep for the Graverunners-- libraries, keeps Nixie, hire guards and servants, turn it into an adventuring business, outside Skyport--" He couldn't stop the smile from splitting across his face. "We could have a castle, Hans." Izzy: Hansel laughed. Fuckin' Mishka. Always ten steps ahead of himself. God, he fucking loved it. "I think we're gonna try to not be outlaws, but I'm not gonna stop you from buying a fuckin' castle, ahuvi." There would definitely be a throne room. Mishka would love a throne room. And a library. A tower Hansel could look out from. A nice kitchen. Yeah. He turned his bottle up. "I could do that." Coyote: "Alright." He was already thinking of one. Made of nice white stone, only a few hours from Skyport. Just outside the bounds of the law. He'd talk to Ripley about it. "Alright," he said again. He'd have to sell some things to fund it, but he could do that. He took a few steps away, having nothing left to talk about or say, but... wanting to stay, still, just not having an excuse. "Well, talk to you later, I suppose." Izzy: Hansel raised his drink in a vague approximation of a salute, amused by Mishka's apparent awkwardness. He was drunk, and no doubt distracted, now, by new plans to cook up. Hansel couldn't wait to hear them. "Any time, Captain." Coyote: Mishka's jaw clenched. Not being needy. Not asking Hansel to hold him or touch him or kiss him. He could do this. He cut himself off from saying good-bye a second time, then slipped off to find more wine. END Category:Text Roleplay